A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) Read online

  “Snow really has met his match.”

  “This is all one big joke to you, isn’t it?”

  Chase loses his jovial expression, his lips now taut.

  “No joke, Darcy. Snow’s flying out in a couple of days.”

  “Coming here?” I ask, my stomach turning somersaults.

  “Yes,” he says, his face softening again. “I’m not here to do his dirty work. He got called back on business, so I came on ahead.”

  He gets to his feet and ambles round the table.

  “Maybe we haven’t got off to a great start…”

  He takes my shoulder, and my feet shuffle round as he turns me to face him.

  “Let’s say we grab a couple of beers from the fridge while we wait for the pizza to arrive.”

  It seems that arguing is getting us nowhere, so what have I got to lose? I nod in agreement. Even with the strong perfume of the flowers there’s an overriding scent, and the nearer to Chase I get, the stronger it becomes. I sniff, trying to place it; it has the essence of coconut, tropical, like suntan cream and body spray combined. His face is actually quite pleasant now that I take the time to look at him.

  Stepping between the petals, I make my way to the fridge, the cold air almost taking my breath away as I open the door.

  “Beer or cider?” I shout over my shoulder. “I’ve got both.”

  His arm bypasses my shoulder as he lifts a beer and cracks it open. I hear a knock at the door, then the bell. Pulling open the drawer under the sink, I empty a small metal tin and search through my change. I look up, but Chase has gone; I hear deep voices spilling towards me from the door. I place my loose change in small piles on the table, then wash my hands as he waltzes back into the kitchen. A large cardboard box is clenched to his chest. My eyes lower to the table top.

  “I had it sorted, I was counting my money.”

  He smirks. “A gentleman never lets a lady pay. Anyway, I’m starved … and this is getting cold,” he says, licking his lips.

  “Didn’t Hooper’s chicken satisfy you?”

  His eyes follow mine as I look down at him. He grimaces slightly.

  “You telling me that was the dog’s?”

  My mouth widens into a grin.

  “Oh well, I’ve eaten worse.” He laughs.

  There doesn’t seem to be anything I can say that fazes him; it’s like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He’s perfect for Snow, and if Snow were to find himself a female equivalent, I can’t help but think she would be his perfect match. It would never have lasted between us, our past always getting in the way, and with two people as highly strung as us it just wouldn’t have worked.

  Chase lifts the cardboard lid, lowers his nose over the open box and sniffs.

  “Ah, there’s nothing like a pizza from home…” He looks up at me under his eyes. “They taste kinda different abroad.”

  “Yeah whatever, I wouldn’t know.” I shrug my shoulders. “Suppose now you’re here you’d best make yourself at home.”

  Grabbing his beer can, he follows me into the lounge. I sit at the far end of the settee, expecting him to sit on the chair opposite. I jump back on the cushion as he steps in front of me and falls back at my side. He’s hardly giving me breathing space, his thigh rubbing against me as he balances the pizza box between us, on his leg and mine.

  “Fuck me, is that Snow?”

  I follow his gaze, which settles on the side wall and a family photograph of myself at the front, Snow kneeling down, Mum and Dad standing behind.

  “Yeah,” I mumble, not appreciating the glasses I’m wearing in the picture.

  “God, I hardly recognised him. I’ll tag him on Facebook, give him a laugh.”

  “Don’t you dare!” I hiss. “I don’t want my face on the Web.”

  Chase chuckles. “What say we check out what’s on TV?”

  Holding a slice of pizza in one hand, he leans forward and takes the remote from the wooden coffee table. I’m surprised he can’t see the shock on my face; he’s a stranger, yet he’s acting like we’re the best of friends. I try to inch away from him, but the pizza box rocks between us and he inches closer. I tear a piece off, and the warm cheese stretches and parts. Not over keen on the mushroom and pineapple topping, I take small bites.

  “So what’s this thing with you and Snow?” he quizzes between sips of beer.

  “There’s nothing between me and Snow,” I blurt out.

  “Then how come your face doesn’t tell me that, and why can’t you look me in the eyes?”

  “I’ve just got nothing to say, that’s all.”

  Leaning forwards, he tilts his head slightly; I can feel his stare.

  “There’s one thing that puzzles me…” He pauses for a second. “Are you two related somehow? Aren’t you his sister?”

  I shake my head vigorously. “No, we are not, we’re not related in any way. We spent one summer together over ten years ago, that’s all.”

  I blank him, staring at the TV, and as I nibble on the crust of my pizza I can feel an awkwardness growing between us. It’s a relief when Chase sits up and places the empty pizza box on the coffee table, and in a matter of moments works his way to the other end of the settee. The moments we sit in silence extend into what must be a couple of hours.

  The doorbell finally rings, and I shoot forwards in my seat. Sam! I try to push my concern away, but now he’s here at the door, I can’t help wondering what I’ll do if there’s something seriously wrong with Hooper. I try to shake away my negative thoughts as I step from the lounge. Flicking up the catch, I open the front door to a large smile on a broad face framed by dark curls.

  “Long time no see.”

  Sam’s face lights up as he steps forward and kisses my cheek. He doesn’t move his face from mine, making me feel he’s waiting for more. I edge away.

  “Come in,” I say, beckoning him towards the kitchen.

  “What’s with the rose petals?”

  “Don’t ask,” I call out as he walks behind me.

  “Fuck me, what’s with all these flowers? And who’s the guy sitting in the lounge?”

  My head flicks round into Sam’s widening stare. I watch his eyebrows rise not once, but several times.

  “He’s a friend of a friend, bit of a jerk to be honest, but I can’t go into it now.”

  Sam rakes his hair with his hand.

  “I could always kick him out.”

  “No, I can deal with Chase, my main concern is Hooper. It’s probably me, I worry too much. He’s eating fine, been out for his walks. It’s just his head, his eyes…”

  “Don’t worry, Darc.” He squares up to me, placing his hands on my arms. “It’s probably something and nothing.”

  He hitches up his trousers and kneels down on the kitchen floor next to where Hooper is lying down. He opens the clasp on his black leather bag. I kneel at his side as he listens to his heartbeat, and watch Sam’s face for any change of expression. He opens Hooper’s mouth, checking his teeth, then with a small light looks into his ears.

  “Darc, walk over to the table and call him to you.”

  I get to my feet and head to the far side of the kitchen. I crouch down.

  “Here, boy.”

  He runs towards me, his paws clicking on the tiles. I can’t help but frown; his head is even more lopsided than it was earlier.

  “Okay, Darc,” Sam says, walking towards me.

  He scoops Hooper up, holding him like a package under his right arm. He bites the corner of his bottom lip as he shines the torch into his eyes.

  “Have you got him insured?”

  My heart almost stops, and for that split second I can hardly breathe.

  “No,” I say, hitting the palm of my hand against my forehead. “I forgot to renew it.”

  “Look, don’t worry for now. As you know, my uncle’s a vet, a specialist. He recently opened his own surgery in Cambridge. I’ll take Hooper with me and take a drive to Cambridge first thing in the morning. Let’s say
we worry about the cost later.”

  “Why, what’s wrong with him?”

  “I can’t be sure,” he said with a reassuring look on his face.

  But I know him well enough to know that he’s worried.

  He clears his throat. “I think he’ll need scans, probably blood tests, and I’m not qualified enough to do either.”

  I lift my chin and force a smile.

  “Anyway, Darc, best get off,” he said, turning towards the kitchen door, but it’s not him I’m looking at; it’s that wiry white tail that usually stands proud and wags vigorously, but is now hanging down between his stumpy back legs.

  I swallow hard, gulping back the tears.

  “Fancy a cuppa?” I call after him, anything to stall him, just to have a few minutes more with Hooper.

  “No, you’re alright; anyway, you’ve got company.” I pick up on the disapproval in his voice.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I’ve got a mountain of stuff to do,” he says, not looking me in the eyes. “I’ll ring you when there’s any news.”

  I can’t follow him to the front door, and I certainly can’t watch Hooper’s face through the side window as he’s driven away. I stand far enough from the kitchen door that I can’t see him leave, then lean over and rest my elbows on the work surface. My body stiffens as I hear the door click shut behind them.

  “Goodbye, Hooper…”

  Walking towards the lounge, my throat feels so dry it’s almost like I’ve swallowed gravel. I see Chase from the corner of my eye, but don’t look at him. I lower myself onto the settee, as far from him as I can possibly get, then rest my head back against the loose cushion behind. I hear the springs of the settee and Chase’s voice.

  “Are you okay?”

  Those three little words; such bad timing.

  “No,” I gasp between growing sobs.

  These tears won’t be blinked away, and they gush down my cheek and off the end of my nose as I bury my head into the side cushion. I freeze upon feeling fingers walking around my shoulders and a heavy arm pulling me up from the cushion. I feel his chest as my head slips beneath his chin. My body moves in time with the breaths that he takes; I can hear the melodic beat of his heart beneath the blue shirt he wears. I tilt my head up and in response feel his chin lower. His fingers brush my tear-matted hair off my face, leaving nothing to keep our eyes apart. It’s like there is a pause between us; he opens his mouth to speak, but as I look at his lips it seems he thinks better of it and keeps his silence. The awkwardness I felt only seconds ago drains from me, the warmth of his body, the strength of his arm a much-needed comfort. I haven’t been held in so long, not like this. I press myself into his chest, and as my sobbing subsides I close my eyes and relax, curling my arm around Chase’s waist. I feel a slight tilt to my body, and both his arms link around me. His hands are taken, so it can only be his lips that I feel brushing against the top of my head. His hands, his fingers don’t wander, he makes no suggestion that he wants this to be more; it is mere kindness he offers, with no hidden agenda.

  “What say I make us a strong brew, and then maybe you can tell me what’s wrong?”

  His hold around me tightens and then his arms are gone.

  “Chase,” I hiss between clenched teeth; it’s been a week and a half, and still my call goes straight to voicemail. “Why don’t you answer your fucking phone?” I yell down the mouthpiece of my mobile.

  Fidgeting in the dark upholstered seat of the taxi, I glance up and catch the driver’s eye, staring at me through the rear-view mirror.

  “Sorry, mate, troubles with staff, an occupational hazard.” My mouth twists into a grin.

  The corners of the driver’s eyes crease, so I assume he is smiling back.

  I gaze out into darkness, picturing the lush Devonshire countryside.

  “Home sweet home,” I mutter under my breath, and let out a long drawn-out sigh as house lights pop up before me. I know I’m getting nearer to Darcy; the house can only be half a mile from here.

  I don’t need to close my eyes to picture the beauty of her face and the silky dark hair that frames it. Her whole being is imprinted on my mind; the flowery scent she wears, the touch and feel of her skin. In an instant my cock responds to my thoughts, and I cross my legs in an attempt to push it down, but to no avail, as it only gets harder. My forehead breaks out into a cold sweat; I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck her now. I like it tight, and boy was she tight, yet when I think back there was something different about her, an innocence. She’s driving me crazy, I want to know her inside and out. If she doesn’t want to fuck, that’s okay with me; I’ll do as she wants, we’ll make love. I’m sitting here shaking my head. I don’t know how to win this woman. Money always worked with the other women I’ve had, yet I send Darcy flowers every fucking day of the week and hear nothing. I buy her the childhood house that I know means so much to her and even then I don’t get a call from her or a thank you. For the first time in my life I’m well and truly out of my depth, and I just don’t know what I’ve got to do.

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that I hardly notice the taxi slow and draw up at the end of the driveway where she lives. My eyes wander over the exterior white-rendered walls, past the upstairs windows and down towards the glass-fronted porch. I don’t wait for the man to tell me the fare, but chuck a wad of notes in his hand and tell him to wait for me.

  As I walk up the slight incline to the front door, I notice the downstairs lights are on and the curtains have not been drawn. The porch door is open, so I step inside and press my index finger on the doorbell. Hearing it ring, I take a step back. I stand and wait, but there’s no sound from within. I ring again; still nothing. I’m tempted to walk back to the taxi, yet as I step away from the house something draws me back. Walking through the shadows, I tread across the lawn, straddling a half-moon flower bed to peek into the lounge through the large bay window. My lips curve into a smile at her feline shape; like a beautiful cat she’s curled up on the sofa. I scrunch my hand into a ball about to tap on the glass when a shadow flits before my eyes.

  I turn towards the lounge door and almost lose my balance, my shoes sinking into the soil as Chase enters the room with two fluted wine glasses, looking more relaxed than I think I’ve ever seen the man. What’s he doing here? I wonder. The expression ‘seeing red’ was a cliché until now, for I see it in every shade imaginable flashing before my eyes, I can even taste the anger, and it tastes like shit. He couldn’t sit much closer to her; I can hardly believe what their body language is telling me. Their knees rub together and she doesn’t even flinch, but it’s not just their knees that touch … her fingers are touching his face. I swallow hard. He’s touching her face, too. I’m not having this.

  “You fucking traitor!” I shout, pummelling the glass with my knuckles.

  The pair shoot up to their feet, and I point my finger at Chase.

  “You, out here!”

  Their eyes are fixed on me. Darcy’s mouth drops open, and Chase takes her forearms in his hands, lowering her back onto the settee. I’m itching to get my hands on him. My eyes almost burn into the back of his neck as he walks from the lounge. I wade back through the flowers, not giving a shit what I tread down, and stomp my way to the front door. The hinges creak, the door opens and he’s standing there looking out at me. I lunge forward, grabbing the neck of his T-shirt, and push my fist up under his throat.

  “You fucking ginger prick! I trusted you, I’m paying you to pave the way for me, not to get your dick wet! You knew she was off limits, you knew how I felt about her and yet you still come sniffing round.”

  Chase lashes out and I lose my grip as he pushes me away.

  “Snow, you may have your hotels and your millions, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like a cunt!”

  He shoves his head into my face

  “Did I want to fuck her? Yes, you’re damn right I did, but did I? No! I was loyal to you; I didn’t l
ay a finger on her.”

  There’s a momentary pause; I’m lost for words. I know Chase well enough to know when he’s lying. He doesn’t even drop his eyes from mine, but stares directly at me.

  “Mate, I’m sorry…” I reach out my hand for him to take, but he pushes it away.

  “Just leave, Snow. She’s too good for you, far too good.”

  “Chase, you know I can’t do that.”

  There’s a bright light shining behind Chase, and I look past him as the door widens. Darcy is standing with her hand placed on her slender hip.

  “What’s going on out here?”

  My eyes bore into Chase’s and I shake my head. His eyes narrow.

  “Nothing, Darc,” Chase says; “just friendly banter between friends.”

  Every word that leaves his mouth is a lie, yet it sounds so convincing. One thing I know for sure is that he can’t look her in the eyes. Even after the way I’ve acted towards him, he’s loyal to me to the end.

  “Anyway, Darc, I’d better be going; don’t think the paint party’s for me.”

  “But you said you were looking forward to it…”

  I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “It’s not just women that can change their mind,” Chase adds with a touch of humour. “Think I’ll shack up in a hotel for the night.”

  “What say you take my taxi, mate?” I offer, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ll be needing it now.”

  Chase turns away from Darcy and barges past me, heading towards the awaiting car.

  My eyes settle on her, a classic beauty as she stands before me dressed all in white. Her hair is scraped away from her face in a high ponytail on the crown of her head, falling down in waves.

  “Well, you going to invite me in?”

  She takes a step to the side, freeing up the doorway for me to enter.

  “The house is yours, so do you really have to ask?” Her tone is icy, and it seems she can’t meet my eyes.

  The arm of my suit brushes against her bare arm and I turn, pressing my chest against her, but immediately I feel her tense up. I have no intention of stepping away, and I glance down; in that split second I see it in her eyes—they can’t hide from me what her body attempts to fight. The sexual chemistry between us is electric; I have to touch her, the beauty before me. God, man, get a grip. I take in a gulp of night air, and raising my hand I place two fingers beneath her chin, lifting her face so that she can’t avoid the way my eyes burn into hers. I lower my head. We are so close that the scent of her cherry-flavoured lip balm makes its way into my nose; I can almost taste her.